


every angle of unfair advantage

by stellarer



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Corporate Crime, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Finale Timeskip (COUNTER/Weight), Season: COUNTER/Weight, fancy parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 05:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17636990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarer/pseuds/stellarer
Summary: Usually a fundraiser soirée wouldn’t be Sokrates’s thing, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. The news has been running stories of recent allegations of violations of workers’ rights and environmental protection law on Joypark, and EarthHome is panicking. Sokrates intends to take full advantage of that panic.





	every angle of unfair advantage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [automatronic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/automatronic/gifts).



> Remember that [episode introduction](http://counterweight.wikia.com/wiki/Episode_40) where Orth used his powers of bureaucracy to sign Joypark over to the Demarchy? Think of this fic as an immediate backstory to that.  
> I have a [post](https://nonbinosaur.dreamwidth.org/339.html) with the pronouns used in this fic, if you want that for reference.

“Just don’t cause a diplomatic incident,” says Cassander over the vidcomm.  
  
Sokrates sighs. “I’m not going to cause any sort of incident,” they say, meticulously connecting their suit to various parts of Integrity. “I’m just going to find out why EarthHome thinks this party is so important that they’re sending their chief risk officer.”  
  
“Maybe e’s not attending as a representative of EarthHome,” says Cassander distractedly, opening drawers and cabinets out of view of the camera. “People can just go to parties because they like parties, you know. Hey, where do you keep the cord for the holoprojector?”  
  
“It should be in the office, on the third shelf from the left,” says Sokrates. Cassander has been Apokine for nearly two weeks now, but there’s been so much for them to learn that they call Sokrates at least daily. “And I’ve done my research, okay? Violet Knight doesn’t go to parties for fun. Or for personal networking. E’s not attending as an EarthHome representative officially, but that only makes eir presence more suspicious. I think EarthHome’s scared, and honestly, they should be.” They accidentally catch the eye of the shuttle driver, who looks a bit intimidated. They suppose they sound a little more intense than usual for someone going to a fundraiser soirée hosted by Yasmin Blue, whose parties are so popular that invitations are highly sought after throughout the sector. Usually it wouldn’t be their thing, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. The news has been running stories of recent allegations of violations of workers’ rights and environmental protection law on Joypark, and EarthHome is panicking. Sokrates intends to take full advantage of that panic.  
  
Cassander sighs. “Look, I hate EarthHome as much as any other Apostolosian, but whether they’re on their way out or not, I don’t want to wake up tomorrow to the news that they’re political enemies of the Demarchy.”  
  
“I mean, it’s not like I’m part of your government anymore. Anyone making a move against me is making a move against Integrity of the Diaspora.”  
  
“And you know as well as I do that it’s public opinion that matters, not technicalities.” Cassander pauses and takes in Sokrates’s appearance. “You’re dressed like a Diasporan.”  
  
Sokrates fiddles with a bronze filament connecting their dark teal flightsuit to their neck. “They’re expecting a candidate. I don’t see a reason to disappoint them.”  
  
Cassander snorts. “They’re not going to stop seeing an Apostolosian.”  
  
“An Apostolosian candidate, from the Golden Branch Demarchy,” Sokrates says.  
  
Cassander is quiet. “Sure,” they say after a moment. “But it would be great if you didn’t start shit between the Diaspora and Oricon, either. We have bigger problems to worry about. Hey, is there a backup cord?”  
  
Sokrates sighs theatrically. “I have a party to be at and a high-level capitalist to spy on,” they say. “Go bug Euanthe about office supplies.”  
  
Cassander barks a laugh. “Fine! I always liked them better anyways.” _Historically speaking, that’s definitely a lie,_ Integrity remarks to Sokrates with some amusement. Sokrates tells them, _We’re not going to rehash all our emotional baggage right now._ Cassander says, “I love you.”  
  
“I love you,” Sokrates says, carefully. They’re still getting used to being close to Cassander again. “Good luck finding whatever shit you need, bye.” They end the comm just as the shuttle is pulling up to the space station. “Great, thank you, just charge my account,” Sokrates tells the pilot, stepping through the airlock into the lobby of Yasmin Blue’s space station.  
  
“Have a good evening, uh, Your Majesty,” the pilot calls after them, then closes the airlock and is gone before Sokrates can correct the title.  
  
“I’ve never been a Your Majesty,” they inform the apathetic clerk at the check-in desk.  
  
“Can I see your invite,” the clerk says. “Thank you. Go ahead.”  
  
“Founder and Former Apokine of the Golden Branch Demarchy, Candidate Enhydra of Integrity, Sokrates Nikon Artemisios,” the clerk announces as Sokrates enters the room. It’s a large room, especially considering it’s on a space station, where every square inch is valuable. There’s a stage near the front, currently empty, hung with heavy velvet curtains. The room is lit by thin glowing strips that run along the ceiling and floor, and by hard light pillars at regular intervals. There are already people here, standing in loose groups and dressed to the nines. Sokrates feels a little underdressed in their flightsuit.  
  
Yasmin Blue turns from where ze’s been talking to a group of people dressed in high-collared cloaks. “Candidate Sokrates! I’m so glad you could make it.” Ze’s wearing a gown in the stunning shade of dark blue that ze’s made hir trademark, with a train that doesn’t drag on the floor but slides just incrementally above it. The fabric of hir hijab is the same color, printed with tiny gold e-ink plants that grow and bloom slowly.  
  
“Thank you for inviting me, Mx Blue,” Sokrates says. “Just call me Sokrates, please.”  
  
“Then I’m Yasmin. There are so many people here who would just love to meet you,” ze gestures towards a very animated crowd of people surrounding a broad dark person in a silver suit. “If you’re interested in art, you should really take the opportunity to talk to Coarse Lyric—you may have heard of xir? Xe did all the statuary in this room, isn’t it just marvelous?”  
  
The sculptures are shards of floating light, not anything Sokrates would call statuary. “They’re fascinating,” they say.  
  
“Aren’t they just? Well, don’t be shy! Don’t feel like you have to talk up the fundraiser, I’ve got that covered. Just be yourself! People appreciate authenticity, after all.”  
  
“Right,” says Sokrates. “You know I got myself disowned and then overthrew my own family’s empire, right? You got the right Sokrates?”  
  
Yasmin laughs and touches their arm. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about! You’re charming. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” And ze sweeps off to greet the next guest.  
  
_Why am I doing this,_ Sokrates gripes at Integrity, who snarks back, _You love to have your personality treated as a commodity?_  
  
Sokrates is aware that they’re expected to play the outgoing, gracious public figure, to answer all sorts of awkward questions politely. They’re certainly not going to do that any more than they have to, but to keep keep up appearances until they find Knight, they suppose they might as well meet Coarse Lyric.  
  
Xe’s surrounded by admirers and xir own art, and after Sokrates introduces themself they realize they have nothing to say. Unless they want to try to talk about the statuary and undoubtedly say something rude. "I like your name," Sokrates says, at a loss for anything else.  
  
"Thanks," says Coarse, looking genuinely pleased. "I chose it myself, back when I thought I would be famous for poetry."  
  
"Oh," Sokrates says. "Didn't quite work out?"  
  
Coarse grins. Xe has fangs. "Nah, but it sets me apart from all the sculptors out there with statue-themed names."  
  
Sokrates laughs. “Are there actually sculptors out there with statue names?”  
  
“Oh, they’re out there, all right,” says Coarse seriously. “Sintered Steel is insufferable. Only works with metal, thinks everything else is below them. They’d probably think Integrity would look better if it weren’t connected to you.”  
  
Integrity bristles like a cat, creeping out to cover Sokrates’s shoulders. _Relax, it’s okay,_ Sokrates tells it.  
  
“They’d be wrong, of course,” says Coarse. Integrity folds back in on itself, soothed.  
  
Sokrates turns away to hide that they’re flustered, andcatches sight of someone watching them from the crowd. Sokrates hasn’t seen Orth Godlove in a decade, but the presence of a few lines on his face hasn’t changed him too much. He looks tired, but that’s hardly a change. They wave; he nods brusquely and looks away to talk to his companion, who’s wearing the brightest colors in the whole room.  
  
"I didn’t know Orth would be here! He’s…an old friend." Sokrates isn’t entirely sure they were ever actual friends with Orth, and they spent a long time being angry at him, but they kind of like the idea of catching up. “Sort of a friend. Nice talking to you! Less nice talking to some of your admirers, but what can you do.” Coarse makes a face. “Sorry about them. Hey, we should talk sometime without all the distractions.” Xe passes xir business card to Sokrates. It has a number scrawled on it in pen.  
  
“Uh, sure!” Sokrates says. They grin at xir, then turn back to find Orth.  
  
Sokrates navigates their way through the glittering crowd, and cries, “Orth! It’s been too long!”  
  
Orth coughs. “It’s certainly been a decade,” he says. He gestures to the small person next to him, whose dress seems to be made of multicolor opaque hard light. “This is Offset. She’s my plus one for the evening.”  
  
“A pleasure,” Offset says smoothly.  
  
“Nice to meet you,” Sokrates says, shaking her hand. “I’m Sokrates, I fought with Orth during the war.”  
  
Orth half-laughs. “In more ways than one,” he says.  
  
Offset raises her eyebrows. “I’ve seen the EarthHome version, but I don’t think it covered that.” She glances between Sokrates, who just smiles, and Orth, who rolls his eyes. “But I’ll let you two chat. I’m going to go mingle, okay? Coarse Lyric is here and I _really_ want xir autograph.”  
  
“Of course,” Orth says. “Have fun.”  
  
“You know how to reach me if you need to,” Offset says, and disappears into the crowd, lights of her dress swirling in the air behind her.  
  
“She seems like she’s enjoying the party,” Sokrates says. “You, on the other hand….” They gesture at Orth, all plain blue suit and stoic demeanor.  
  
“And you’ve been having a ball, I see,” Orth replies. “I heard that you’d be here and I didn’t believe it at first. You never seemed like the sort of person who goes out of their way to be gawked at.”  
  
“I’m not here because I want to be poked by strangers, that’s just an unfortunate side effect,” Sokrates says. “Networking is important.”  
  
“Networking,” Orth says flatly.  
  
“Yeah, networking, that’s a normal thing to go to parties for,” Sokrates says. “Let me know if you see Violet Knight, okay? My research says e’s about my height, short reddish hair, usually wears light suits. I meant to keep an ear out for if eir name was announced when e arrived, but either e isn’t here yet or I haven’t been paying close enough attention.”  
  
“ _That’s_ the sort of networking you’re doing?”  
  
“Do you know em?” Sokrates asks, scanning the crowd.  
  
“One of EarthHome’s execs, right?”  
  
“Their chief risk officer,” Sokrates says. “We have some unfinished business.”  
  
Orth looks sharply at Sokrates. “Anything to do with the rumors about Joypark?”  
  
“Got it in one,” says Sokrates. “Wait, wait, I think I see em….”  
  
It’s a good thing Sokrates can recognize eir face from photos, because eir hair is long, black, and floating like it’s underwater, a mod that’s all the rage on Kalliope right now. E’s not wearing a suit, either; e’s glammed up in a flouncy shirt and close-fitting fawn-colored trousers under a cloak that looks like huge bat wings.  
  
As soon as e’s in earshot, Sokrates calls, “Executive Knight, could I have a word?”  
  
Knight turns to face them with a perfectly pleasant expression on eir face. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Candidate Enhydra, is it?”  
  
“Just Sokrates, thank you,” says Sokrates. “I hear you’ve been having some problems over on Joypark? Such a shame.”  
  
“It’s terrible to be falsely accused of such awful crimes,” says Knight. E sighs and sets a hand on Sokrates’s arm. “I know you must be concerned, as an Apostolosian, about the allegations of environmental neglect. I can assure you, they’re entirely fabricated.”  
  
Integrity prickles at the back of Sokrates’s neck. Sokrates doesn’t immediately recoil from eir touch, but does pull away after a moment.  
  
“That is so good to hear,” Sokrates says, setting a hand on eir shoulder, hiding a bug under one of the flounces of eir shirt. “I’m glad there are people like you out there keeping an eye on things.”  
  
_You’re overdoing it,_ says Integrity.  
  
_E’s buying it,_ Sokrates replies.  
  
“It’s good to hear that from someone, ah, with your background,” e says. Integrity activates the bug as e’s speaking and Sokrates immediately hears Integrity’s recording of Knight’s voice directly in their head a split second before the sound reaches their ears. It’s disconcerting.  
  
“Well, thank you for reassuring me,” Sokrates says, ready to be anywhere other than this conversation. “Nice to chat.” They turn away and send Orth a look that says _can you even believe this shit?_  
  
“That was bad to even listen to,” Orth says once Knight is out of earshot. “What are you getting out of this that’s worth putting up with _that_ for?”  
  
“Just gathering intel,” Sokrates says.  
  
“Well, you learned e’s a liar, and smarmy, too.” Orth says, taking a glass of water from a passing waitstaff.  
  
“I mean, those were a given,” says Sokrates, keeping half an eye on Knight.  
  
“Right,” says Orth.  
  
Neither of them say anything for a minute, which is about fifty seconds longer than Sokrates can tolerate. In the back of their mind they can hear Knight making small talk, nothing interesting. Sokrates reaches for a topic. "Well, you know what's up in my life from the news, I assume. What have you been doing for the last ten years?"  
  
Orth frowns. "Got into government. Worked for the Technocracy for a while. You know, on Counterweight. Worked with your sibling for a bit, actually. CCT fell apart, took a trip to September, you know what happened there. I just started working for the Oricon government doing corporate oversight. It's kept me busy."  
  
“Yeah, it’s still weird to think about you and Cassander working together,” says Sokrates. “Just, you both knew me first but didn’t meet through me.”  
  
“I got the sense they didn’t even know I knew you, actually,” says Orth. “Did they just tune out of pop culture? Because there were a good ten or so movies where fictional versions of us interacted. They hadn’t even seen the anime, and that’s the one that makes me look _cool._ ”  
  
“Honestly, they probably intentionally avoided anything with me in it,” says Sokrates. “They were pretty angry with me for a long time.”  
  
“Right,” says Orth, fidgeting with his water. “Hey, look, I know you and I didn’t part on the best of terms either.”  
  
“Oh no, I was really hoping we could just sort of avoid the elephant in the room,” Sokrates says. “There’s definitely more than enough space in this room for an elephant.”  
  
“I wanted to say that I know you were doing right by your people. And that’s admirable.”  
  
Sokrates tenses up. “Right. I did what was right, and you did what you thought you had to do.” They take a deep breath, “I’m sorry, that’s not fair. It was a bad situation a long time ago, Orth, can we just talk like old friends?” Still not a fair thing to ask, since they were never really friends. Friendly acquaintances for a while, sure.  
  
“Sokrates, that’s not….” Orth looks frustrated. “I’m sorry for the way things shook out, and my role in that, is what I’m trying to say.”  
  
“Ugh, you’re so, like, gallant,” Sokrates complains. “Sorry I was such a stubborn idealist.” Integrity prods at them. “Integrity wants to note that I haven’t stopped being those things and am not actually sorry.”  
  
Orth laughs. “Of course you’re not.” He looks out at the other guests, then blinks and turns back to Sokrates. “Well, it’s been nice to catch up, and I’m not trying to get rid of you, but I need to, uh, go over this way.”  
  
Sokrates looks where he’s gesturing. “Oh! Looks like I’m going your way, mind if I tag along?” In a nice coincidence, Knight is standing near the corner Orth indicated. Sokrates wouldn’t mind being able to see em as well as hear em.  
  
“I didn’t really eat dinner, actually, so I was planning on grabbing a bunch of hors d'oeuvres and….” Orth trails off, looking a little sheepish.  
  
“Eating alone in the corner?” Sokrates finishes for him. “Look, if you want me to leave you alone I totally will,” they say. “But if I join you, there’s less chance of some chatty stranger deciding you look like you need a conversation partner. Even if we’re not talking much, there’s strength in numbers.”  
  
Orth considers it for a moment. “All right.” Sokrates follows Orth as he collects various tiny foods from waitstaff.  
  
Sokrates leans against a pillar, giving themself a clear line of sight to Knight, who’s deep in conversation with a small person wearing an off-the-shoulder bodysuit that appears to be made entirely of tiny fresh red and purple flowers.  
  
They tune in to Knight midsentence: “…to see you again, even if it is under these circumstances. I’m afraid I don’t attend many of these things, but they certainly have their charm.”  
  
Eir conversational partner makes an equivocating noise. “Can’t say I’m a fan of the guests at this one. Lyric’s only popular because people think they seem more interesting if they claim to like art nobody understands.” Integrity picks up on Sokrates’s scorn and agrees, but says _You were just thinking similar things about the sculptures twenty minutes ago, remember?_ Sokrates mentally waves that aside. Integrity consults some databanks and continues, _The second speaker is Anna Pernell. One of Orth’s colleagues. Ze’s the person responsible for collecting and reporting data on the environmental effects of corporations in OriCon space._  
  
Knight’s talking again, some comments about art and poetry and how one of the guests has a new play out that’s supposedly a real masterpiece, “but I can’t believe Yasmin invited that Apostolosian candidate, I mean, does ze _want_ to alienate half hir donors?”  
  
Pernell makes a noise of agreement. “It’s a fine line to walk, to be sure,” ze says. “I think Yasmin, bless hir heart, gets so carried away by the mystique surrounding some of these people that ze forgets that their politics aren’t just for show.”  
  
Sokrates can’t stop themself from rolling their eyes. _Just because Yasmin isn’t worried about alienating people like that doesn’t mean ze doesn’t understand how politics work,_ they tell Integrity, perfectly aware they’re preaching to the choir. Integrity sends a pulse of agreement.  
  
Knight’s talking again: “…if you’d show up, considering what a mess things are.”  
  
“I wouldn’t be meeting you if I thought the situation was hopeless, Violet,” says Pernell. “Time is money, after all, and I don’t invest in things that fail.”  
  
“It’s good to have your vote of confidence,” Knight says.  
  
Sokrates realizes that neither they nor Orth have talked for a while. They suppose that was the deal, but it feels awkward. “So,” they say to Orth, “If you’re not interested in mingling, why bother coming to this event? You didn’t even take the chance to dress up fancy like Offset.”  
  
“Politics,” Orth says shortly.  
  
“Optics?” Sokrates says sympathetically. “Need to be seen supporting certain causes?”  
  
“Not really,” Orth says. Sokrates waits for him to elaborate, but he just takes a bite of a tiny pie.  
  
“I can’t imagine it was easy to get an invite,” says Sokrates.  
  
“Called in favors,” says Orth shortly.  
  
“Oh, I see,” says Sokrates. “You heard I was going to be here, and you thought to yourself, ‘You know, I always wanted to talk to Sokrates again and tell them they were right,’ and—”  
  
“Can you just—hush?” Orth snaps.  
  
“Wow, rude,” Sokrates mutters.  
  
Integrity shushes them.  
  
_You’re talking his side?_ Sokrates says.  
  
_No, just—listen,_ says Integrity.  
  
“…talk somewhere more private about certain possibilities,” Pernell is saying, so quietly that the bug on Knight is barely picking it up. “Do you have the data?”  
  
“Safe and sound.”  
  
“How are we…?”  
  
“Secure transfer. _Later._ ”  
  
Sokrates loses their focus on the conversation when Orth swears quietly. “Did something happen?” They ask.  
  
“Hm?” Orth looks over at them as if he’d forgotten they were there, then takes a dated comm unit out of his pocket and starts typing on it. “Nothing, just…need to message someone.”  
  
Orth waits for the comm unit’s lights to blink slowly, signalling that the message has gone through, before putting the device away. He seems to zone out again, and Sokrates realizes that Orth’s been acting weird for a little while, now.  
  
“Wait, are you…listening to something?” Sokrates asks.  
  
Orth startles a little. “What?”  
  
“You keep…spacing out…and staring over….” Sokrates gestures in the direction Orth’s been looking, which is…right where they’ve been looking. “Hold on, do you have Violet Knight bugged?”  
  
“Well, no,” says Orth sheepishly, glancing around to make sure nobody’s paying attention to them. “But the person e’s talking to is Anna Pernell. Pernell has helped EarthHome cover up a full decade of environmental crimes on Joypark. It’s not just the stories in the news lately. It’s way more than that.”  
  
“Yeah,” says Sokrates. “You’ve got hir bugged?”  
  
“No, I’ve got Offset tailing hir. She’s got me looped into the audio. If I can get solid evidence of corruption, I can report it to my superiors. I can make it stop. That’s my job now, Sokrates. I mean, more or less.”  
  
“Right, your job description probably doesn’t include tailing your own colleagues to parties to expose their corruption.”  
  
Orth picks at one of his hors d’oeuvres. “Yes, _technically_ I’m supposed to go after megacorporations, but _technically_ I’m off the clock.”  
  
Sokrates mutters, “Okay because, see, the thing is, I _do_ have Violet Knight bugged.”  
  
Orth gives them an assessing look. “Do you.”  
  
“Well, someone’s got to do something about EarthHome, and I didn’t see anyone else stepping up.”  
  
“I assume this is your unfinished business?” Orth asks.  
  
“More or less,” says Sokrates. “You know the history of Joypark.”  
  
Orth is quiet for a minute. “Is that bug recording?”  
  
“…Yeah, Integrity’s getting all of it.”  
  
Orth nods decisively. “Let’s do something about EarthHome, then.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I was going to get around to it sooner or later. Might as well be sooner. I’m hoping that if I can expose some of the corruption in my department, I’ll be able to do something about the ownership of that planet.”  
  
Sokrates looks at him sharply. “You have that kind of power?”  
  
“On paper? No way,” says Orth. “In practice? I have very little oversight. EarthHome is already collapsing; I can make sure it collapses in the right direction.”  
  
“I can’t _believe,_ ” says Sokrates delightedly, “you’re trying to replace one corrupt government official with another corrupt government official whose name is _Orth Godlove._ ”  
  
Orth looks away and does a fake cough. He’s saved from having to reply by a burst of music from the stage at the front of the room.  
  
“Welcome, old friends and new,” Yasmin Blue’s voice rings out over the crowd. Hir blue gown fluttering slightly as if in a soft breeze. Nothing else on the stage is fluttering; the gown is probably engineered to act that way on its own. “Thank you for attending the annual benefit soirée for the Golden Branch Star Sector Youth Illumination Committee! I hope you’ve all had a chance to try some of the hors d’oeuvres and meet some of the other guests! There will be more time for those things in a few minutes, but now I invite you to welcome to the stage our first presenter, who many of you may know….”  
  
Knight mutters, “We don’t have time for this. Meet you by the fountain?”  
  
“Which fountain?” Pernell asks.  
  
“The one with the statue, you know, the proper statue, not one of these… light things.”  
  
Sokrates cranes their neck to try to spot them, but the crowd has filled in more and they don’t have a line of sight.  
  
“Okay, let’s follow them,” Orth says.  
  
“What?” Sokrates hisses. “We’re recording both sides of the conversation, Offset’s watching them—is she getting video?”  
  
Orth nods.  
  
“So why would we follow them and increase the risk of being found out?” Sokrates says.  
  
“Because Offset is expecting me to be nearby in case something happens and she needs backup, and you’re coming along because you’re more useful in a fight than I am.” Orth takes out his clunky comm unit, pulling up a blueprint of the space station with a blinking red light moving away from the party. “Follow me,” he says.  
  
“Useful in a _fight?_ ” Sokrates says incredulously, trying not to be overheard as they push through the crowd after Orth. “Orth, if Integrity and I _fight an Oricon executive_ that’s going to be seen as an act of _war._ ”  
  
“Well, I doubt it’ll come to that, anyway,” says Orth. “And Offset can handle herself in most situations, but we wanted to plan for the worst.”  
  
Sokrates waits until they’re in an empty hallway to ask, “Do you have a _tracker_ on Pernell?”  
  
“Of course not, that would be unprofessional,” Orth says. “This is Offset’s data.”  
  
“Right,” Sokrates says. Orth shushes them and leads the way into a high-ceilinged indoor garden, lit by glass lanterns floating in the air around a murmuring fountain. The statue in the center of the fountain is the sort of stereotypical depiction of Apoanta that tourists often buy in Apostolosian spaceport gift shops. Sokrates makes a face.  
  
Over the bug, Sokrates hears Knight say, “I don’t know how we get around this, is the thing.”  
  
Integrity says, _Knight’s armed, Pernell’s not. Orth and Offset both have weapons._ _What does Orth need me for,_ Sokrates complains. _I promised Cassander I wouldn’t cause an incident._  
  
_Just make sure it doesn’t become a_ diplomatic _incident and you’re fine,_ Integrity says.  
  
_Can you be, like, a little less annoying while I’m trying to not start a war,_ says Sokrates.  
  
“Luckily, that’s what you pay me to figure out,” says Pernell smoothly. “Your PR department has been doing a good job of keeping it under control. There’s the usual documentation fixes and redirects on my end, of course. I’m working on a few things at a higher level, really get those records….”  
  
Sokrates tunes out for a moment. Orth is frowning down at his comm unit. “What’s up?” Sokrates whispers.  
  
“You’re still getting audio? Both sides?”  
  
Sokrates nods.  
  
Orth gives a thumbs up and sends a message to Offset. “Some kind of energy field. Offset’s outside it.”  
  
“Visual?” Sokrates asks.  
  
“Still got it.”  
  
Pernell is still talking. “…of course, higher than my usual fee, and there can’t be any trail on that data.”  
  
“I’ve got it in a secure digital safety deposit box,” says Knight. “Here, I’ll reset the keycode…and now you enter yours…and send it through…excellent. It’s been sent to your account, along with the cred transfer.”  
  
“Hold on a second,” Pernell says. “You’ve got something on your…hey!” There’s a rustle, then a crunch, then nothing.  
  
“They found the bug,” Sokrates says. “Uh, shit.” They tie their hair up in the quickest bun possible. Integrity catching on their hair would be really unhelpful right now.  
  
“Can you hold them off for three minutes?” Orth says, then yells, “Offset, we’re out of here!” A dense human-shaped shadow sprints past both of them, and Orth follows it out the door.  
  
Sokrates follows Integrity’s directions around some hedges and raised flowerbeds just in time to see Knight and Pernell, the air around them rippling with distortion as the energy field falls.  
  
“If they’ve got this on the mesh, you’re done for,” Pernell tells Knight coldly. “And I don’t invest in failures. You’re on your own, Violet.” Ze pulls the energy field back up around hirself and dashes for a back exit. Knight stands for a moment, maybe shocked, but when e catches sight of Sokrates e pulls a pistol out from under eir bat wing cloak.  
  
“Knight, we can talk about this,” Sokrates says.  
  
“I’m not falling for that,” e says. Eir cloak billows out behind em, and for a moment Sokrates thinks it’s the same sort of engineering as Yasmin’s gown. But then it splits in two, flaps, and—it’s not a cloak.  
  
_Looks like the floaty hair’s not the only mod e got on Kalliope,_ Sokrates mutters to Integrity, running down the garden path towards Knight.  
  
_High score for visual effect, but I think I can do better,_ Integrity replies, unfurling behind them like bronze ribbons and folding inwards, encasing them in armor even as they run. Sokrates lifts off toward the high ceiling, following Knight as e uses eir huge wings to hit them with gusts of wind. _We only need to keep em occupied for a couple minutes,_ Integrity reminds them.  
  
Knight aims eir gun at Sokrates.  
  
“I really wouldn’t do that if I were you,” says Sokrates. “It won’t get through Integrity. And you don’t want to cause a diplomatic incident, do you?”  
  
Knight snarls and drops toward them. Sokrates dodges, letting eir own momentum crash em into the fountain behind them.  
  
“Still getting used to the wings?” Sokrates asks. E glares up at them from the fountain, eyes not quite focused. “High score for visual effect, but you didn’t stick the landing.”

 

 

The crowd in the main room looks a little unsettled already, and they shriek when Sokrates flies over them towards the door. _You have to say something,_ Integrity says.  
  
_What I have to do is get out of here before Knight tries to make me fight em again,_ Sokrates says, but they land on the stage near Yasmin and have Integrity pull back from their face. “Sorry, Yasmin,” they say. “Uh, Violet Knight and I had a bit of a misunderstanding in the garden, nothing too major, but you might want to call some medical professionals in, just to, you know, make sure e’s okay.” They turn to the crowd. “Everything’s fine!” They say.  
  
_Convincing,_ Integrity says. _Great outreach._  
  
“Were the running people with you?” Someone calls.  
  
“Right! They’re my ride! Thanks for the hospitality,” they say to a very alarmed Yasmin, then turn back to the crowd. “Have a good evening!” They say, before taking off and flying out the exit. They’re a little too fast for the motion sensors, and kind of clang against the doors on their way through. It’s fine.

“Thanks for waiting for me,” Sokrates says as they land next to Orth just outside the airlock. Integrity folds back in on itself and into Sokrates’s neck.  
  
Orth shudders. “What happened back there? What’s our level of alarm?”  
  
“I don’t think we’re at war levels of alarm, but maybe lawsuit levels?” Sokrates says. “But it’s fine, e didn’t even get knocked out, we’ll be fine.”  
  
Orth gives them a real hard look. “What about that is ‘fine’ to you?”  
  
Sokrates shrugs. “Nobody else got hurt.”  
  
Orth looks like he has a headache. “I thought tonight would be some easy surveillance, gather intel, nobody notices, pretend to have fun at a party.”  
  
“You were never going to succeed at that last one, Orth, you look too serious all the time,” says Sokrates. “I hope Offset did, though. Where’d she go?”  
  
“I was just pinging Takeoff.” Offset melts out of a dark side hallway, her hard light dress set to full shadow so she appears to be wearing a cloak made of dense dark feathers. She uses a bracelet to pull up some video footage. It’s a little distorted from the energy field, but the mesh deposit box is clearly visible, as are the passcodes Knight and Pernell entered to access it. “Got them,” she says smugly. “Got it all recorded and in the mesh, got their passcodes, I was two feet away from them and they didn’t even notice me. You got all the audio, right, Sokrates?”  
  
“Yeah, Integrity’s sending it to you right now,” they say.  
  
An alert beeps on Offset’s bracelet. “That’s Takeoff,” she says.  
  
“You’re getting a lift with us, right?” Orth asks Sokrates.  
  
“I took a shuttle here, so that would be great,” Sokrates says. The airlock opens and they all clamber into the ship. “Integrity’s spaceworthy, technically, but it’s a bad time for long flights.”  
  
_Everyone has limitations,_ says Integrity. _Mine is that I cannot make up for all of yours._  
  
Offset glances up to the cockpit, then down at her darkened outfit. “I’m going to go sneak up on Takeoff,” she whispers.  
  
Orth looks alarmed. “Hey—wait—not while they’re—flying—”  
  
“I’m sure they have it on cruise control by now,” she says, starting up the ladder.  
  
“Oh wait, you left before—” Sokrates calls after her. “Hey Offset, you’ll want to hear this, guess what. Knight’s bat wing cloak? Not actually a cloak.”  
  
“What,” says Offset.  
  
“Human-sized actual wings,” says Sokrates. “I think e must have got them on Kalliope recently, because e was _not_ good at actually using them.”  
  
“Real bat wings,” says Orth. “That seems a little on the nose. Does e _want_ people to assume e’s a bad person?”  
  
“I don’t know, Coarse Lyric has _fangs_ and xe seems fine,” says Sokrates absently.  
  
“Does xe,” says Orth.  
  
“Uh,” says Sokrates. “Yes?”  
  
There’s a shriek from the cockpit, and the sound of two people laughing. Orth smiles up at the noise, polishing his glasses on his shirtsleeve. “It’s good to have good people around,” he says.  
  
Sokrates hums in agreement. “I’m glad I ran into you,” they say. “Even though I wouldn’t have gotten into nearly as much trouble on my own.”  
  
“Really? I think you would have found a way,” Orth says, then sighs. “I still have to figure out how to present this to my superiors.”  
  
“You think you have it bad,” Sokrates says. “I have to break the news to Cassander.”  
  
Orth grins. “Oh, shit, you’re getting disowned _again,_ ” he crows.  
  
Sokrates shoves his shoulder lightly. “I’m going to pin all the blame on you.”  
  
“They’ll never believe you,” says Orth. “They think I’m boring.”  
  
Sokrates cackles.  

**Author's Note:**

> cass: oh, a message from sokrates. i wonder how the party went [opens message] “Hey Cassander, heads up that EarthHome probably hates the Demarchy now. You don’t need to worry about it because Orth Godlove and I are taking them down. Expect planet soon. Love, Sokrates”  
>   
> cass: “expect planet soon”????


End file.
